


The Masochism Tango

by thelma_throwaway



Category: Naruto
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM gone right?, BDSM gone wrong ?, Badass Sakura, F/M, Femdom, Femme Fatale, Flogging, Kakashi in eyeliner, Light on Porn Heavy on Plot, NSFW all the same, Sakura saves the day, Sakura the freak, Seduction Mission, Smut, but whose seducing who, smutshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:08:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25100671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelma_throwaway/pseuds/thelma_throwaway
Summary: “I was running seduction missions while you were still learning basic handseals,” he reminds her haughtily.“I don’t think you’re making the point you think you’re making.”——When a seduction mission doesn’t go as planned, it’s up to Sakura to save Kakashi from a sadistic mob queen—- and his own bedroom hang ups.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Hatake Kakashi, Hatake Kakashi/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 154





	The Masochism Tango

**Author's Note:**

> CONTENT NOTE: contains heavy BDSM and slightly dubious consent, aftercare fluff, Sakura’s kinky proclivities, and Kakashi in guyliner

“Are you _really_ ok with this?” Sakura nibbles on the sharp crescent of her nail and tries to look relaxed. They’re still a few hours from their destination, not too late to turn back. Though she knows it's not his style.

“Of course I am. I think you forget how many years of experience I have, Sakura.” Kakashi doesn’t look up from his book, sandaled feet dodging rocks and dips in the road.

“Maybe it's your childlike demeanor,” she sneers through grit teeth.

“I was running seduction missions while you were still learning basic handseals,” he reminds her haughtily.

“I don’t think you’re making the point you think you’re making.”

The grey clouds that have dogged them since they left Konoha knit together and it starts to pour. They slog the last few miles in silence, wading ankle deep in the sandy mush formally known as the road. By the time the flickering lantern outside the inn appears ahead of them, Sakura is soaked to the bone and sick to her stomach with dread. 

It’s not the mission itself. She’s taken plenty just like it. They’re _shockingly_ common. More than once she’d taken an A-rank seduction mission only to figure out it was simply one rich man’s exorbitantly expensive prank on another. 

Sometimes they weren’t so bad. She’d once spent the night with an extremely handsome arms dealer who really knew how to use his weapon. Another time she’d been courted for a week by a shy bureaucrat who’d cried at the suggestion of taking her home for the night but wooed her with luxurious meals, a trip to the onsen, theater tickets, and even a curly haired puppy before she extracted the necessary information. 

And the last time—- she shivers a little at the memory, tuning out Kakashi’s fake cheer as he negotiates for their room. The last time she’d gone on a seduction mission with Kakashi it had ended with her pressed against the hotel room door, his knee between her thighs, his covered lips ghosting along her jaw. 

“I didn’t like how that swine touched you,” he’d growled as he traced a palm up her side, hesitating for only a moment at the swell of her breast where the target had motorboated his sweaty, ugly face a few hours earlier. She’d worn a tight red cheongsam, slit to the thigh with a peek-a-boo cutout on the chest.

“It’s a seduction mission, they're _supposed_ to touch you,” she’d grumbled, hiding her pleasure that he’d finally made a move. She hadn’t needed such a fantastically sexy outfit to neutralize the target. The guy had been so thirsty for her attention she could have done the whole mission in a pair of footie pajamas. The dress was for Kakashi. 

“I should have broken every bone in his hands.” Kakashi’s fingers had followed the slit of the skirt up her thigh. “In his hideous face.” 

“Pretty sure it’s moot at this point. He won’t be honking anymore titties.” 

Then Kakashi had growled and kissed her hard.

Sakura had hastily agreed to this mission without reading the scroll, and they were halfway between Konoha and the resort town they’d find their target in before she realized _he_ would be doing the seducing. A curvaceous mob boss with an iron fist and an extremely particular taste in men.

She pouted and questioned him and kicked herself for wasting money on a new dress, this one almost comically shameless. She’d liked him jealous and ravenous and unreasonable, and she wanted to see it again. 

Like--- now.

Kakashi ends his negotiations with the innkeeper with a deferential bob of his head and hands her the key room 

At their door, Sakura jams her sopping pack into Kakashi’s arms and roughly pushes in, shedding her wet flak jacket. She removes her dripping tactical pants and mesh undershirt and leaves them in a soaking pile on the floor. Kakashi closes the door and does the same.

Sakura turns away and unwinds her damp wraps from around her chest, tossing them on the pile as well. “Pass me a roll of cotton bandage?”

He hands it to her over her shoulder with a strangled _hmpph_. 

“What do you think,” he asks once they’ve redressed. Laid on the bed is a map with several Xs in black ink, their target’s file, and an eyepatch.”

“I think it’s pointless to go out on a night like this.” She’s drying her hair and leafing through the file. Sakura holds up one of the photos. 

The woman looks almost hand drawn in a skimpy red kimono, the supple curve of her legs and bust nipped tight at her waist with a black leather obi, long dark shiny hair, a murderous look under impeccable eye makeup. In the picture she’s calmly smoking a cigarette while holding a knife to a man’s testicles. 

At a tea shop. In broad daylight. 

“She seems like your type.”

“And what exactly is my type?” Kakashi crinkles an eye at her and reaches for the photo.

“Dominant.” She holds tight to it for a second before releasing, meeting Kakashi’s eye. “Scary.”

“Can’t deny that;” he rubs the back of his head and examines the image. “Not much for knife play but I dig the red dress.”

Sakura shrugs.“I like a little knife play.” 

She traces a path between the Xs on the map while he reviews the targets file.The closest one to their inn is just a block or two away. 

“This lady _is_ scary.” He examines the eyepatch and fits it on with a sigh. “She has quite an imagination.”

She _tsk_ s and leans over to read the page upside down. “Don’t fall in love now, Kakashi-sensei.”

“You only call me that when you want to make me feel like a real pervert,” he pouts. They’re very close to touching, her head angled towards his as her eyes run over the type. It would be a perfect time for him to grab her roughly again and pull her mouth to his but the moment passes and he eases back against the pillows instead. 

“Mmmm.” Sakura’s stomach twists a little as she gets further down the page. Her medics mind is cataloging the nerve damage, internal bleeding, muscle tears, head trauma, blood loss this woman’s so-called imagination has caused. “Kakashi…”

“What?” He’s fiddling with the eyepatch but stops when he sees her serious look. “What.”

“She’s not kinky, she’s sadistic. Don’t underestimate her.” She bites her nail again, wincing as she nips the tender red skin along the nail bed. He gently catches her wrist and pulls her fingers from her teeth, hand lingering no longer than necessary against her pulse. 

“I’m not worried. I’m pretty tough, if you haven’t heard.” She rolls her eyes and reaches over to snap the elastic band of the eye patch. “Plus, I’ll have you for backup.”

Later in the evening the rain let’s up and they change into civilian clothes to walk to the nearest X on the map. They haggle over a cover story on the way. There aren’t too many reasons a clearly unrelated man and woman would be traveling together.

“It’s a business trip,” he suggests.

“Ok, what's our business? Where’s our headquarters? Can I have your business card? Who are we---”

“Maa, fine. What about—“

“Don’t say merchant's daughter and bodyguard, I didn’t pack for that.”

“I like that one. So romantic…”

“You’re supposed to be romancing the queen pin, remember? Not your boss’s precious princess. You’re kinda bad at this. Didn’t you have to do this for ANBU?”

Kakashi sighs. “The point of black ops is that no one even knows you’re there. Plus I think this woman might like it if there’s a little competition.”

She rolls her eyes as they stop outside the restaurant. “Fine. If anyone asks, I’m your… girlfriend. And we’re on a weekend getaway.”

“Hmm.” Kakashi strokes his chin. She still doesn’t fully understand the logic of uncovering his face when he’s undercover but she’s not complaining. He’s already fixed himself up to the target’s specifications, just in case they run into her. The eyepatch, hair parted to the side and combed back, a long black haori over a short grey yukata, and a pair geta. His face is fresh shaved and--- the coup de grace-- he wears a hint of kohl around his eyes. Anyone else he’d look thoroughly corny but Kakashi looks _good_. “What about-- promiscuous step-sister.”

“Watch it.”

Their mob boss doesn’t show up but she does see a pair of tough looking characters muttering to each other and pointing to Kakashi.

He winks over his cup of sake when they distinctly hear one say _go tell her_.

No one asks if they’re dating or promiscuous stepsiblings, or even their names for that matter. They walk back in the drizzle sharing the umbrella the restaurant's owner had lent them. Kakashi wipes at the black trickle running down his cheek and sighs.

“Now my make-up’s ruined.”

“I _did_ offer you my waterproof liner.” 

“You brought your beauty bag to run back-up on a seduction mission? I’m starting to think you didn’t read the scroll thoroughly before signing on.”

She pouts and tips the umbrella to splash some water on his head. “A kunoichi is prepared for all situations.”

“Does that mean you came prepared with that red cheongsam?” He’s smiling innocently but she can practically smell his body remembering her pushed against the door, his knee pressing between her thighs, the noise he made when he’d realized she wasn’t wearing anything under the dress. 

“No.” She shakes out the umbrella and follows him into the room. “It’s a new one.”

“Nothing wrong with the _old_ one.” In an uncharacteristic show of modesty, he turns to disrobe. She rolls her eyes at his back— they’ve seen each other in every state of undress at this point. She’s seen _most_ of the Konoha jounin in every state of undress. And Kakashi looks the best. Rock Lee being the surprising runner-up. 

Sakura sheds her light green yukata and slips into the bed in her wraps and spandex shorts. Kakashi does the same, face recovered by his uniform shirt. For a moment they sit like an old married couple, settling in for the night. She clocks the slim distance between their bodies but doesn’t shift away and neither does he. She reaches for the light with a smirk.

“I kept the red dress. This one is just more… effective.” She listens with glee to his strangled cough in the dark and snuggles down with her back to him. If her ass grazes his hip, well that’s just a coincidence.

“Goodnight, Sakura,” he says tightly.

“Sweet dreams, Kakashi- _sensei_.” 

They sleep in the next morning, then putter around the room getting things in order for their second foray that night. Their client had given plenty of intel on the target’s favorite haunts, her sexual proclivities, the keys to her volcanic temper. 

“Some of these sound familiar,” he muses, reading over the conversational don’ts as they eat their bento lunch by the harbor. It’s a beautiful day after last night's torrential downpour, and it helps their cover to be seen out and about like tourists. She’d pointed surreptitiously at the two ungainly thugs that had followed them from the inn that afternoon. 

She doesn’t take the bait. “Who do you think this client is? Jilted lover? They seem to know an awful lot about her.”

“Sakura I’m surprised at you,” he tuts. “You know better than to start asking questions about a mission’s sponsor. If there was anything untoward Tsunade would have never accepted the commission.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” she says with a grimace and fans herself. “Man, it’s _hot_.”

“Why don’t you change into your new dress.” Kakashi swaps the paper for a copy of _Icha Icha_ _Tactics_ camouflaged as a travel guide from the folds of his yukata. Despite his dark colored costume he doesn’t look overheated. For lack of a better term, he looks both figuratively and literally quite cool. “If it’s ‘more effective’ than that red cheongsam it has to be pretty skimpy.”

“It definitely has better airflow,” she replies, reading the page over his shoulder. It’s one of the ‘emotional build-up’ chapters she has no patience for. Jiriya should have stuck to the pure smut.

Kakashi shakes his head and shoos her away without comment. “Don’t you have some recon to do?”

That night they plan for him to go out on the town solo. It’s a balmy summer evening and the city is alive with white lanterns, music filtering from every restaurant and teahouse. The kind of night that makes you want to go out and find someone to take home without asking too many questions. 

Sakura leans over him, seated on the edge of the bed, to apply his eyeliner. “Hold _still_.”

“Be careful with that eye,” he grumbles, steadying her with a thoroughly platonic palm on her waist. “I’ve already lost one.”

“Lost one and picked up a sharingan,” she reminds him. “You’re all done. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“I suppose not.” He rises to examine her work in the bathroom mirror.

“Do you have the bug?”

Their plan is to get Kakashi in the boss’s boudoir so he can plant a remote mic--- the queen pin was known for taking her lieutenants to bed, and for talking shop as pillow talk. That kind of intel could bring the whole syndicate to its knees. Kakashi nods and pats just below his belt. Sakura quirks a brow and he shrugs in reply.

“From my experience,” he starts sagely. “There are few tough guys who’ll frisk your crotch. Even if she strips me naked before letting me into her room I’ll be able to conceal the plant---.”

She laughs and holds up a palm. “You know what, I don’t wanna know. Keep your trade secrets.”

“Gladly.” Kakashi smooths his hair in the mirror and sighs. “I’m guessing you won’t be wearing that tactically superior dress this evening.”

“Nope.” She fits on a flak jacket and tucks in her earpiece. “You won’t even know that I’m there.”

Kakashi strolls leisurely through the town, ignoring both of the figures shadowing him on his path. A scrawny looking yakuza underling tracks from a shamefully close distance, dodging between souvenir carts and hiding behind the pretty girls that shout invitations to their restaurants from the street. Sakura follows along the rooftops, settling into a large, leafy elm as Kakashi makes his first stop. He settles at a table in a brightly lit courtyard with his back to the front gate and orders a bottle of sake. 

“Sighted,” Sakura whispers into her mic after an hour. Their target is wearing her trademark red kimono, just barely clinging to her shoulders, and black leather obi. She’s flanked by ten men armed with katana, each larger and more morally flexible looking than the last.The pictures hadn’t done her justice at all-- the woman is tall as any man in her retinue with glowing pale skin, hips swaying like a twirling knife as she walks. Sakura can smell her perfume from her perch in the tree, can hear the silky smooth, cruel laugh of the boss as the bar’s owner shoos away the occupants from the largest table at the back of the courtyard. The group settles in and starts to drink.

“I’ll have another,” she hears Kakashi say over the earpiece, and watches him wave the empty bottle at a waitress. The target whispers into one of her henchmen’s ears and he hops up to approach Kakashi, the rest of the men simultaneously vacating the table to commandeer the ones nearby. She grits her teeth at the rough way they handle and bully the civilians. The owner worries his hands together in the doorway and she feels for him. To be the chosen watering hole for the local yakuza was a blessing and a curse.

“Don’t bother,” the flunky says to the waitress, yanking the bottle of sake from her hands as she returns to Kakashi’s table. “Aoi-dono wants a drink with you, and she don’t like the cheap stuff.”

“I’m honored,” Kakashi says deferentialy and bows his head to the red and black clad woman in the corner. 

“Careful,” Sakura says uselessly, nibbling at her nail while she watches him amble over to the table. The target smiles like a cat at a canary and pats the spot next to her.

“You’re new in town,” she purrs when he sits, eyes roaming over his slicked back hair and eye-patch with open desire. 

“Just passing through.” Kakashi pours her a dish of sake from the carafe on the table before filling his own.

“What brings you to our little no-name harbor?

“Escorting my step-sister to her new boarding school. Her father seems to think she’ll benefit from an all-girls setting.” Sakura rolls her eyes and scowls from her hiding place. “She’s a bit of a handful.”

“Ahh a promiscuous little brat, eh? I know the type.” The woman shifts, letting the collar of her kimono droop to reveal even more of her luminescent chest. “It’s hard to deal with girls, I’m told a mature woman is _much_ preferable.” 

“Just so.” Kakashi holds his saucer aloft and smiles that devastating smile. Sakura gulps down a snarl. This woman has no idea how lucky she is, seeing that knee-knocking, earth-shattering, sense-scrambling grin after only a few minutes with him. It had taken her _years_ to gain the privilege of knowing his true face. _This woman doesn’t deserve one of Kakashi’s smiles_ , she fumes. 

“Kampai,” he says and they knock back their drinks. He pours them both another and settles into a handsome but submissive pose. “To what do I owe this honour, Aoi-dono? I don’t suppose you entertain every traveler the blunders through.”

“No, I don’t. Generally I find tourists tiresome and lacking a certain adventurousness I like in a man.” She smiles and it looks something like drawing a blade. “But you… well you’re just my type, honey.”

He inclines his head modestly. “I don’t believe I’ve given you my name yet.”

The woman sneers and leans forward. “I don’t want it.”

“Oh she’s _goooood_ ,” Sakura says under her breath. Kakashi hates radio chatter when he’s working one-on-one with a target. “I’ll have to remember that one.”

“As you wish,” he says cheerfully and it sounds like he’s talking to her.

Aoi wastes no time. Once her expensive bottle is emptied she takes him by the collar and drags him from the courtyard, gesturing to her posse to clear the way for them. Sakura follows along the rooftops until they come to the gang’s headquarters, a dilapidated dojo retrofitted with an ugly row of spikes along the walls, each one topped with a severed head. 

She thinks Kakashi doesn’t look half bad, getting pulled along by a woman a head taller and twice his size. In fact under different circumstances she might have enjoyed the show, tucking away for later the tingling thoughts that form watching him act so pettish and passive.

The severed heads kill the mood a little.

“I take it these gentlemen were _not_ your type,” Kakashi jokes and Aoi smiles wolfishly.

“Some of them _were_ \--- until of course they were not.” She leads him through the gates and towards the main house. At the door she turns to her bodyguards and orders tersely, “Stay here. And don’t even try to listen in.”

  
The men sheepishly retreat to the other side of the yard, producing dice and liquor bottles and cigarettes while they grumble. Sakura vaults from the neighboring roof into a tree situated behind the house and follows Kakashi’s chakra signature through the halls.

“Can’t get a visual,” she pouts. “Scream if you need me.”

“Hmmm,” is all he can say in reply. She hears the sound of a door sliding open and shut through the earpiece. 

“Take your clothes off, stranger-san. Let me look at you.” 

There’s some shuffling as the haori and yukata drop away.

“Mmmmm, nice. _Very_ nice indeed. I’m glad you favor the traditional underwear.”

“None at all.”

“Exactly. Now come over here.”

Sakura presses a hand to the blush on her cheeks. She hasn’t seen _that_ much of Kakashi yet, not head on. No pun intended. 

He lets out a gasp of surprise and coughs a little. “It's refreshing to meet a woman who knows what she wants.”

“Shut up or I’ll have to gag you, and I’d _really_ like to hear you scream.”

Kakashi hums in assent and coughs again, and she realizes Aoi must have him in hand. 

The target purrs and giggles. “Your friend likes me, too. He’s already at attention. What a good little soldier. I think he’s ready for basic training.”

Sakura’s mind darts in two directions at once. One side of her brain follows through the image of Kakashi, naked and gagged, getting put through his paces by the formidable woman. The other--- the pages of wounds she’s inflicted on past lovers. Kakashi was trained to endure torture and would take just about anything not to compromise a mission. One wrong move and he could be permanently injured. She shivers and scans the row of heads on the dojo walls. Each one has slicked back silver hair or a facial scar or an eyepatch.

Kakashi has all three tonight.

The shiver of desire deserts her completely and she moves into a crouch, fist charging with chakra before she realizes it would be a grave mistake. She’ll trash the mission if she super-punches her way into the bedroom. Neither of them will get paid and Kakashi, Tsunade, and the whole village council will be livid. She growls and redirects the energy to her feet, walking the wrong way around the trunk to try and get a better view.

Inside Aoi giggles and there's the distinct metallic song of a knife roll being unfurled. “You’re going to think I’m really weird, stranger-san. But I have a few things that really get me going that most people would call.... Different. Frightening, maybe.”

Kakashi doesn’t say anything but she can sense his chakra spiking anxiously through the wall. 

“You don’t think I’m _scary_ do you, stranger-san?” She waits for him to reply and like the clever man he is, he doesn’t breathe a word. Aoi laughs and claps. “You’re so good at following directions. Get on the bed.”

There’s more shuffling, the tell-tale thump of rope being tossed onto a soft surface.

“Your hands please,” she instructs. “Above your head. Just like that. Now open wiiiide.”

Kakashi _hmmphs_ helplessly and Sakura’s breath hitches in her throat. She shakes her head hard to dispel the clouds of desire percolating there. He’s in serious danger and she needs to be ready to save him, not rubbing herself against a tree trunk like a cat in heat. 

“Oh you look _stunning_ ,” Aoi purrs. “Just perfect.” 

There’s the unmistakable crack of a whip and Kakashi groans, then two more in quick succession. “Not ready to scream yet, stranger-san?”

Another and another, and Sakura fits a knuckle in her mouth to stop herself from sighing into her earpiece.

“You’re a tough one aren't you,” the woman laughs. “I bet you give that bratty little step-sister of yours spankings all the time. How do you like it?”

Sakura rolls her eyes. Of course his dumb pervy coverstory was going to come up again.. 

“Scream for me,” she demands and whips him again. “I said SCREAM.”

Kakashi stifles groan but doesn't cry out. Aoi laughs cruelly. “Good boy. Scream now and you’ll ruin all my fun plans. I’m going to play with you until you can’t take it anymore. If you last until I come, I might let you walk out of here.Well--- _limp_ out of here. But if you scream before I do I’ll add your head to my collection. Now, let’s take a look under that eye patch, shall we? If you have another hole for me it’s best to know now.”

Sakura tenses and hops to her feet, skipping over the roof and onto a tree on the opposite side of the dojo. She can still hear Kakashi’s stifled groans and Aoi’s diabolical laughter in her earpiece, and she curses the slickness between her thighs. She needs to _focus_.

Crouching on a branch above the assembled henchmen she catches a breath, waiting for the right moment.

“Sounds like Aoi-dono’s having fun with this one,” one of them sneers, flipping a fish on the makeshift grill they’ve set up.

“Shut up.” An older man smacks him on the back of the head. “Do you know what she’ll do to you if she hears you?”

“I have an idea…” They all guffaw.

“That’s no reward,” the older man says grimly. “Lady Aoi likes three things-- blood, pain, and sex. In that order.” 

“What about money?” Sakura rolls her eyes. She doesn’t have time for this--- Kakashi’s breath comes short and labored over the headset between thwacks of the whip. She pulls two explosive tags from her pouch and touches them against the far wall of the dojo, grimacing at the sight of a silver-haired impaled head.

She times her jump so she’s already halfway back to Aoi’s bedchamber by the time the first tag explodes. The henchmen scatter, shouting and panicked. Two sprint to the main house, hesitating at the main door. She’s back in her tree when she hears through the earpiece frantic knocking on her door.

“Aio-dono!”

“WHAT have I told you about interrupting me when I’m entertaining,” she snarls savagely and there’s another crack of the whip as the henchmen cry out.

“Forgive us-- there’s been---”

Another explosion rocks the compound and Aoi howls and gnashes her teeth.

“Fine! You stay where you are stranger-san. I have a feeling I’m going to have some frustrations to take out on you when I return.”

She waits until she hears their footsteps recede before sliding open the window and slipping inside. The room is brightly lit, a pair of manacles hangs from the ceiling and a large wooden X with leather straps one each arm stands against one wall. An assortment of torture instruments and sex toys and a few objects that could be either is laid out on a low table at the foot of the bed. Kakashi is sprawled against the bed, red welts covering his naked thighs and torso.

Sakura takes the gag out of his mouth and loosens the rope at his wrists. She notes with great displeasure that the rope has been charged with chakra suppressant. Wisps of green chakra flow from her fingers into the rough braid and she wraps it carefully into her pouch. Ibiki will be interested. 

“You planted the bug, right?” Her hands ghost over the angry read marks on his stomach. 

He nods and gulps for air, gesturing towards the window. 

“Fawn over me later.” He wraps the haori loosely around his waist, leaving his chest bare and they both slip out of the room, closing the window behind them. 

It’s not hard to get home undetected, even half-dressed and pink haired and sprinting along the rooftops. Everyone in the street is watching the burning dojo but none move to help— though a public well sits just a few yards away. They enter their hotel room through the window, and Sakura goes about resealing all the entrances while Kakashi splashes water on his face.

“I told you,” she scoffs.

“Told me what.” He whips the eyepatch across the room and ruffles his hair from its neat part. 

“That she’d be dangerous.” She approaches him, palms already charged and ready. The leather whip had broken the skin along his ribs, his face and wrists are bruised. The trick rope has sucked him half dry of chakra and he’s trembling. She’s never seen Kakashi like this, every lascivious thought from earlier chased away by the urge to heal him, to hold him. 

He pushes her away, not hard but _firm_ and he growls. “You sounded like you were enjoying it.”

“Huh?” Her mouth hangs open as he swivels his head to glare at her.

“Over the earpiece. You were practically gagging. Did you really think I wouldn't notice you pant and moan? It was all I could hear.” 

“Shut up,” she scoffs defensively. “If I hadn’t moved when I did your head would be on a spike outside Dominatrix Dojo. You should be on your hands and knees thanking me right now!”

“My _hands_ and _knees—-_ ”

Without thinking she grabs him by the back of the hair and twists his head to look at her. His sharingan swirls weakly and she knows despite his fury he’s running on fumes.

“Yes,” she says, a little more gently. “Kissing my feet. Among other things.”

“Tsunade’s been a bad influence,” he grumbles but doesn’t shake free. Instead he eyes her definiantly, head tipped back, chest heaving as he gets his temper under control. 

“Did you… did you like it?”

“What, getting bullwhipped or listening to you moan?”

She bites her lip and releases her fist from his hair. “Both.” 

He huffs unevenly through his nose and scowls, utterly un-Kakashi like. She realizes she must be witnessing a side of him few have. “I did.”

“Hmmm.” She takes the opportunity to step closer, running her charged palms along his chest and stomach, closing wounds and mending muscle. He shivers at the sensation of her chakra replacing his lost energy, filling him up with crackling green light. For a while the only sound is their breathing in the little bathroom. “Do you know about aftercare, Kakashi-sensei.”

His eyes are closed, head slanted against the mirror above the sink. “.... no.”

“It’s after… you know… rougher stuff. You take care of the other person, take off their ropes, get them water, rub their shoulders. Make sure they feel okay.”

He makes a noise like he understands but is loath to ask how she knows all this.

“Are you… feeling ok now,” she asks tentatively, smoothing her fingers over the bruises at the base of his throat. He nods and gives her a weak smile. 

“I am. I’m sorry I was harsh. I didn’t particularly like feeling so vulnerable. That woman is a demon. And I’ve _met_ demons.”

“It’s ok. I was there to back you up. And I got you out just in time, right?”

He nods again and lifts his forehead from the mirror, placing a familiar, comforting palm on the crown of her head. “That you did.”

“Kakashi,” she says softly. “I need to get to the wounds on your um… legs.”

He nods and unties the haori from his waist, letting it drop away. She sits on the toilet and he cups himself modestly as she works on the welts peppering his thighs. Her mouth goes dry when she realizes he needs _both_ hands to keep covered. 

She resists the urge to kiss his knuckles, to nudge his palms apart and make him forget all about Lady Aoi and her torture chamber. She looks up at him and sees he’s looking down, a strange, hot expression on his still uncovered face.

“Sakura…” 

She finishes her work quickly and stands. “I’m sorry. It was unprofessional for me to get… heated. I hated her the moment she put her hands on you.I should have put another tag under the bed so she’d be blown to hell tonight.”

“That would kind of defeat the purpose of our mission, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“I don’t give a shit about the mission. If I had known I’d have to standby and listen while you—-”

“Now you know how I feel,” he says with a smirk. “You think I like crouching in a bush, listening to you pretend to moan and groan under some nobody feudal lord?” 

“Then— why do you keep coming with me.” She’s suddenly aware how close they are, how small and hot the room is, how naked Kakashi stands, vulnerable and maskless.

“Why would I ever let anyone else go with you.”

In a flash she has him pushed against the opposite wall, towel bar digging into his back but he’s not complaining. Maybe it’s because she already has her tongue in his mouth, holding him fast by either shoulder. He drops his hands away from his lap and holds her by the waist, and Sakura moans when she feels his naked length press against her stomach. 

She doesn’t breakaway until her lungs feel like they’ll collapse without a proper breath. Kakashi’s eyes are bright and focused, taking her in with just a hint of surprise.

“What was that for?” 

“You’re so dense,” she grumbles and starts to pull away but he draws her back to him. “Really?”

He studies her intently as if coming to a decision. “I need you to say it.”

“I— dammit! I don’t know how.” She frowns and goes to her tiptoes to kiss softly up his throat, nuzzling her nose and nipping at the freshly healed skin, and lays her head against his chest with a sigh. “Does that count? 

Kakashi tips her face to him by the chin. He looks tired and serious and _sexy_. “Yes.”

“You kissed me first anyway,” she pouts. “If you recall.”

“I do,” he growls and slides his hands around her ribcage, hoisting her onto the sink. She wraps her arms around his neck and giggles. 

The radio in the other room crackles and Sakura lets out an excited gasp. “We’re live!”

With one last reluctant squeeze, he sighs and lets her push past. Sakura jumps on the bed, holding the speaker to her ear. 

“Sounds like they finally got the fires under control.” Kakashi comes out of the bathroom wearing a pair of uniform pants, to her great disappointment. She hadn’t even gotten a chance to _appreciate_ him. On the other side of the line, Lady Aoi is cursing and fuming at her plaything’s disappearance. Sakura puts on an innocent face and turns to him. “Wow she’s really bummed you stood her up.”

“I’m sure she is.” He sits across from her on the bed and they listen a bit longer, finally turning it off when she pulls in one of her henchmen to take his place. 

“Now we just have to drop the receiver to our contact and we can go home.” She wriggles out of her field uniform and slides under the blanket with a sigh. Kakashi follows her, bare chested and bare faced. She hides her grin by turning to switch off the light. “I love when these go easy!”

Kakashi snorts. “Easy for who? An hour ago I was getting fifty lashes.” 

Sakura flips on her stomach and follows the outline of his body in the dark. 

He’s turned towards her on his side, each muscle of his shoulder and arm defined in shadow and tapering down towards his hips under the comforter. She wants to trace it with her fingers, her lips, her tongue, her body. Instead she reaches out to hold his chin. His chakra has recovered quickly, and there’s a faint red glow in the dark that tells her his sharingan is active, he can see her clear as day.

“You said you liked it.” She feels his face shift into a grin under her fingertips.

“Under friendlier circumstances, yes.” He dips his chin to press a kiss to her palm. “I’m starting to worry I won’t be able to keep up with you, Sakura.”

“We don’t have to start with a whip,” she pouts and pushes his face away when she realizes he’s teasing.

“I respond well to positive reinforcement.” He catches her wrist, guiding her hand to his hair. She starts scratching slow circles against his scalp. He practically purrs as the sharingan winks out, and she knows he’s finally closed his eyes. “For example— if you wear that new dress of yours, I’ll do whatever you say.”

She feels a knot of pressure form at the juncture of her thighs and she shifts to soothe it but it’s no good, not enough when he’s so close. “You haven’t even seen it yet.”

“I peeked.” He grins against the smooth plain of her forearm, and she gives a gentle slap on his cheek.

“Bad boy.”

They wake early,, still facing each other with her hand tangled in his hair in the dawn glow. 

“Yo,” he says sleepily.

“Yo,” she replies.

It’s not exactly the torrid night of passion she’d been hoping for. It isn’t totally uncommon for two-man teams to blow off some steam after a seduction op anyway. It went without saying it wasn’t something you put in your mission report. ( _Target neutralized, support operative performed cunnilingus in a tree before return to HQ. 1 orgasm, no casualties.)_

But she feels strangely satisfied. Maybe it’s because Kakashi is pulling her closer now, maybe it’s because she knows she has him unequivocally wrapped around her finger. She’d expected to need to conquer, to convince, to show him she was grown. It’s not so strange, she thinks, that someone so perfectly in control of his power and performance would want to give up a little to someone he trusted. 

Trust— she’s struck by how deep his trust really runs. He slept uncovered, so not only does he trust her to see his face, he trusts her seals on the doors and windows. Trusts she won’t run to tell her friends about the angle of his jaw and the curve of his lips. He’d trusted her to get him out of Lady Aoi’s torture chamber, and he’d trusted her enough to lose his temper, to be scared, hurt, healed, turned on, so many emotions all at once. 

“We need to make contact,” she giggles, nestling her nose against the hollow of his throat. “I’ll send a slug.”

She goes to remove her palm from the crown of his head but he _hmphs_ and holds it in place.

“In a minute.” 

“It _cooould_ take awhile for us to connect with him,” she suggests.

“Mmphh.” He shakes his head against the pillow. “A very slippery slope. There’s a difference between stopping for a quick fuck on the way home and needlessly extending a mission.” 

“I don’t want it to be quick,” she growls against his neck and his hand tightens on her hip.

“I know.” He gently moves her head by a tuft of pink hair so he can look into her eyes. His are hazy, the sharingan rolling lazily. She realizes he’s committing her to memory, the sight of her flush with sleep in his arms. It makes her stomach drop. Was he planning on shutting it down? Would this be her only chance to see his face so close in the morning light? “When we get back…”

“It’ll be like nothing ever happened,” Sakura scoffs and goes to pull away. “You’ll go back to your apartment and I’ll go to the hospital and we won’t see each other for weeks.” 

“If you want.” He stills her by the waist and she doesn’t break the hold even though it would be easy to. She could pulverize him and everything in the room without even moving the needle on her chakra reserves but that’s not the point. Not when he’s looking at her like this. “Or you could come to my apartment and we can take our time.”

“Can I… stop at my place for a few things.” A sly grin cracks her face. 

“I told you, wear that dress you can bring anything you want.”

She nods and her grin melts to a shy smile. “Now would be a good time to kiss me.”

“Ahhh, see,” Kakashi nuzzles his way toward her mouth. “An order I can get behind.” 

They arrange to meet their contact on the way out of the city. The man is a portly councilman with a fake moustache and a long red welt on his cheek just a few weeks healed. He accepts the radio furtively with sweaty palms and disappears back into his carriage. Kakashi winces when the driver cracks his whip as they peel away.

“Damn, we forgot to have him fill out the comment card,” she sighs, waving dust from her face.

“That’s… pretty funny.” He already has his nose buried in his book again and she rolls her eyes. 

It’s an easy half-day run home. but she gives her professional medical opinion that they shouldn’t rush--it might aggravate any latent injuries-- and offers to give him a full physical the next morning. Plus it’ll be easier to return to the village at night. During the day bored shinobi wander between the training grounds and the standby station, waiting for a mission and desperate for gossip. There’s too much of a chance they’ll run into someone they know and end up having to go for lunch or drinks or a spar or a casual 500 laps around the village.

They stop to eat and rest a moment by a swollen river, running high after the week’s heavy rains. Kakashi takes down his mask and eats properly, slow careful bites while he reads. Still she can’t help but grin.

“Why are _you_ so happy?”

“Shut up,” she replies and gives him a peck on the cheek. He blushes a little.

“None of that, now.”

It’s night when they finally walk through Konoha’s gates, the attendants waving sleepy salutes as they pass. At the entrance to the hokage’s tower they bicker over who’ll give the report to Tsunade and who’ll bring Lady Aoi’s rope to Ibiki.

“Who would you rather explain how you got stripped and whipped to,” she huffs after a solid 10 minutes. 

“Neither.” A slow grin tugs at his mask. “Who would _you_ rather explain how I got stripped and whipped to.”

“Neither. Tsunade will make me squirm and Ibiki makes my skin crawl.” 

“Hmmm.” He taps his chin, studying the blush creeping along the bridge of her nose. “I’ll take Ibiki.”

“No way! She’s going to want _all_ the details and--” He’s already snatched the pouch from her hands and bounded away towards wherever it is that ANBU crawl in and out of. Sakura growls and stamps her foot.

Tsunade is two drinks in with her feet on the desk. She stops Sakura half-way through her report and calls in a red-faced Shizune to listen. 

“Continue,” the hokage leers with a wave of her manicured hand. 

Sakura clears her throat and tugs her collar. “After I initiated the diversion I returned to extract our agent and… um…”

“That’s when you saw Hatake naked and strapped to the bed.” Tsunade’s eyes twinkle dangerously. “I don’t know that it turns me on but I’m definitely enjoying the image. I’ve wanted to tie him down and beat him a few times myself.”

“It was just his hands,” Sakura chokes out, looking to Shizune for assistance. She shrugs helplessly and looks away. 

She finishes with a description of their drop to the contact and Tsunade nods. “Excellent work as usual. You can consider your official briefing over. Now--- tell me. Did you two…?” 

Tsunade waggles her brows suggestively and Sakura feels a fresh flame of blush on her cheeks.

“Thats--”

“Oh, please,” she scoffs. “I was an active jounin, I’ve worked my share of seduction missions. The way home’s the best part and by my reckoning it took you two hours longer than strictly necessary to get back here. So spill.” 

“We didn’t do anything,” sighs Sakura.

“Unfortunately,” Tsunade and Shizune finish for her with a laugh. 

“Am I dismissed,” she asks through grit teeth.

“Lighten up.” Tsunade waves her hand. “Write me the report, rub one out, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Sakura takes the rooftops to her apartment, shedding her flak vest and sandals in the hall. Slipped under her door are unflattering doodle done with a familiar sumi brush, an Ichiraku to-go menu, and a handful of bills. 

There’s someone else in the apartment but since it’s the seal on her bedroom window she has a good idea whose there. She takes her pack into the bathroom with a sly smile.

Kakashi’s sitting comfortably on her bed when she’s done, nose buried in _Icha Icha Tactics_.

”I got tired of waiting at my—“

His jaw drops and his book falls from his hand. She’s wearing her new dress, flowing over her form like silky black ink. There’s an almost iridescent shine to the fabric, and a shimmer runs from where the skirt splits at her thigh, up the hollows of her hip and the swell of her chest. The bodice is held up by thin straps that gather at the nape of her neck in a little tied bow.

“How was Ibiki?” She advances slowly, fingertips tripping along the comforter. 

“Good, fine. I forget.” He eyes her hungrily. “He’ll want to talk to you.” 

“Hmmpph.” Sakura runs a nail up the sole of his foot and he hisses. “Fine, then you write the report for Tsunade.”

“That wasn’t part of the deal.” 

“She who wears the tactically advantageous dress makes the rules,” she reminds him. 

“That’s right.” Kakashi grins under his mask and reaches out a hand to run along the slippery fabric. “Can I make a final request before I submit to your will?”

“I suppose,” she huffs, though her eyes are bright and mischievous. He draws up his forehead protector, revealing his glowing red sharingan, and motions for her to turn in a circle.

Slowly, slowly she complies, revealing inch by inch the low dip of the backless dress, the swathe of pale skin from her muscles shoulders to just above her tail bone. The fabric hangs away from her ribs, showing the swell of her breasts. 

Kakashi makes a sound deep in his chest and in an instant he’s next to her, palms running greedily over her body. She gives out a surprised laugh and pushes against his chest, but he catches her wrists easily, folding them behind her back.

“Hey,” she pouts, nipping at his mask with her teeth, tugging it down one nibble at a time. “You said—”

“Don’t whine,” Kakashi tuts, tracing the shell of her ear with his nose. She pulls the mask down over his lips, his throat, lifting on her toes to catch him by the mouth. His hand disappears under the slit at her thigh and she shivers against the brush his fingers.

Kakashi slides to his knees, kissing his way down her throat and between her breasts. He runs his hands over her calves, the backs of her thighs, lifting the slippery fabric of the skirt as he goes, licking and biting his way to her soft inner thighs. Sakura moans and buries a hand in his hair, steadying herself against him. She’s already trembling and slick and _ready_.

He looks up once more, tongue poised against the bow of his lip, one brow quirked in final confirmation. She grins and nods. “Go ahead, Kakashi- _sensei_.”

“With pleasure, _Doctor_ Haruno,” he replies and dips his mouth to taste her for the first time. 

* * *

_Want more Masochism Tango?? Check out[my Tumblr for art and excerpts](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/thelmathrowaway/search/Masochism+Tango) _


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